Behind the Lens at the Ring Dance---my girl gets her class ring!

This is a picture that my girl, Keli, just sent me via her phone.  She is at her Junior "Ring Dance" tonight, a formal dance where the juniors receive their coveted Class Ring.

I can't even begin to tell you how good it did my heart to receive this picture from her tonight.  First, there aren't many girls at that dance who are going to take a moment from their friends and their festivities to text a picture to their "uncool" mother who is sitting at home being a slug in her Owl Pajamas.  But my girl did.

And it made my night.

You see, just a few weeks ago my girl was very, very sick with mono and secondary infections.  She still is struggling to get back on her feet, fighting a nasty case of bronchitis now.  But just a couple of weeks ago, she was terribly ill in the hospital.

No mom ever wants to see their child ill.  But most moms are great nurses.  This mom is not.  I am a lousy nurse, a terrible nurse.  Compassion and mercy are low on my list of virtues, spiritual gifts, whatever you want to call them.  I just don't have them.  And yet there was a transformation in my soul as I watched my girl struggle to breath and dealing with great pain.  I realized in those hard moments, just how much I love my girl and how much of a privilege it was to stay up with her night after night, to nurse her both at home and in the hospital, to administer ice chips and popsicles and eventually solid food.

I am blessed.  I am blessed by all four of my children.  But tonight I am taken with my girl:  She is courageous.  She is strong.  She is determined and focused.  She has an amazing sense of humor.  And she is a survivor.  I am proud.

And I can't wait for her to get home and to tell me all about the dance and show me her new ring in person.  ((By the way, she won that ring-----one junior each year wins a free class ring and this year she won it---a gift to us from God because purchasing one was not an option this year.  We are grateful))

Road Trip

We have returned from our cross country Road Trip, having made it all the way to St. Louis, taking a trip to the top of the Arch, before having to turn around and head back East.

Things I learned:

1.  Teenagers think that it is fun to drive for the first hour.  And they they want you to drive the rest of the way.

2.  Driving through WV has got to be a lot like driving for NASCAR.  Most fun I've had driving in years-----Danica Patrick has absolutely nothing on me.

3.  My grandmother must be the sharpest 90 year old that I've ever met.  She didn't miss a thing, looks healthier than I am and was hysterical.  I've not seen her in at least 12 years, maybe longer.  She was dressed head to toe in Purple.  If I make 90, maybe I will wear Purple.

4.  I still want a horse.  I don't think I will ever, ever outgrow that.

5.  Denny's serves great Pancakes for cheap cheap cheap.

6.  My girl is listening to a lot of the same music that I grew up with in the 80's.  Something is just not right about that........especially when she doesn't realize that these are NOT NEW SONGS!!!!

7.  St. Louis is a long ways away.

8.  The big, scary mall at Fairview Heights, IL is still there.  With the funny roof.  And I imagine the scary escalator is still there as well........YIKES

9.  The sky is absolutely beautiful in WV and in KY.  Not so much in IL or IN.

10.  A lot of time to think does not necessarily translate into a plan.

Our Trek Across America

We have returned home.  Too tired to write much, but lots of funny things to catch up on when I get a chance....


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On our Trek across the BlueGrass State, I could not pass up the opportunity to let Keli see the horses.  We spent all day Wednesday at the International Horse Park in Lexington, KY.  Our very first activity of the morning---a horse back ride.  Nose to tail ride for beginners, across the farm, in between the corrals that housed all the different breeds at the park.  Perfect weather, perfect day for a ride.

Keli and I, while awaiting to be assigned to our horses, were joking around about which horse would be mine and which was hers.  She wanted the tallest horse in the paddock.  No Fair, I wanted the tallest horses in the paddock.  His name was Blueny---gorgous, elegant, absolutely perfect.

But then, much to my chargrin, the trail lead explained the purpose behind choosing horses for the riders--they do so based on ability, age and weight.  Huh.  Ok, that makes sense.

So they call my girl down, and lo and behold, they put her on Blueny....She's grinning from ear to ear, and I'm jealous.  That's ok, I'll take the text tallest one please, named Sancho.

Nope, no Sancho for me.  A couple of other beautiful horses found their riders, while I continued to be passed over.  I was beginning to feel a bit like I was back on the playground getting picked last for kickball---not an uncommon event.

At last, they called my name.  I eagerly descended the paddock toward what I thought was my horse---medium beautiful, beautiful chestnut in color.  But I was wrong.  I was led right past that horse, to Butch.  Butch was standing in the corner.  He took one look at me and I knew he did not want to do this.  At all. Can anyone truly blame him though??

He was the shortest, the fattest horse, in the entire stable.  No Joke.

I get settled on Butch, who, with a snort, falls in line and plods along, I try to act like I know what I'm doing. I look at the leader, a nice girl from Lawrenceburg, which meant we knew quiet a few people in common, thus she and I chatted quite a bit on the ride.  That gave me an opportunity to watch what she did and try to copy that with my horse.  No real results.  Oh well.  Plod, plod, plod, plod.

Back in the Paddock, everyone has dismounted except myself.  Ok, time to get off of this horse.  But best laid plans.......the next thing I know, I hear a snap in my brain from my leg and down I fall hard, boom. 

I think fast and evaluate the situation.  Keli is looking at me like she just can't believe I've done this.  The guy two horses behind me happened to be a paramedic.  I get up and try to figure out what the sound was in my leg/brain.  I can put wait on it, so it's not broken.  That's a good thing.

Keli asks me how in the world I managed to do this--only one to fall, and I fell of the shortest and fattest hourse, the one closest to the ground.  I don't know.  Not Pretty.  God gives grace but obviously has not granted me the physical attribute of grace.  

Did not let it deter us from seeing the rest of the horses, as well as driving to Lawrenceburg last night for dinner with a friend, and then walking all over seminary today "touring"  Resting it tonight, hoping for improvement tomorrow morning!

I Need to Start a Blog Feature Titled "Things That Only Happen to Our Family"

Last night, as part of our "School's Out-We Made It" celebration, we loaded up in our car and drove to the Yorktown Battlefields, armed with a trunkful of bats and badminton rackets to attack lightening bugs with.  There are not many things that are more fun, then swinging wildly at lightening bugs and watching their lights shatter into pieces and go flying through the air.  I suppose that would qualify as "Cruelty to Animals".  But dang, it is fun.


When we pulled off to the side of Surrender Road, the battlefield was full of at least 20-30 deer.  Keli had her camera, so she crawled out the driver side window and crept along the fence line to try to get some pictures.  We silently waited in the car so as not to spook the deer.  About halfway down the battlefield, Keli turned and looked back at the car.  I knew instantly what she was going to do.  She's always wanted to run with the deer.  Sure enough, she took off in a dead sprint, and chased those deer clear across the field and into the woods.  So funny to watch.


We deployed then to wreck some havoc on the firefly population, but alas, within minutes of unloading our arsenal, along came a ranger who kicked us out.  What must he have thought, seeing us pulling all those bats out of the trunk??  I think Mark was already on the attack---from the road it appeared as if he was swinging at, um, nothing but air.


As we drove home, Keli discovered her cell phone was missing.  Not good.  We knew she must have dropped it during her terror filled (for the deer) romp across the battlefield.  Being good, law-abiding citizens--except I think that it may be a misdemeanor to chase the deer, hmmm---we decided we would just have to wait until the morning to find her phone.


So, at about 8:00 this morning, Keli, Bethany and I made our return visit to the fields, full of confidence that we would find the missing phone.  However, as we pulled off the road at our exact location from the night before, we saw a sight that made our hearts stop.


The battle field of last night, resplendent in it's tall, waving grass, had been mohawked down to nothing.  The grass had been cut.  And there, back by the tree line, was the offending machine--a green John Deere Tractor pulling the largest farm mowing implement behind it.


Keli and I stared at each other, our jaws dropped.  And then, I just couldn't help it, though I tried.  I started giggling, and then chuckling, and then laughing hysterically.  Keli's reaction was "Mom, this is NOT funny."  But then, she too, couldn't help but see the hilarity of the moment.  Because, really, how often do they actually cut the dang battlefields?  Of course, it would be the morning after my girl had lost her phone.


We decided to look anyway.  I pulled myself together and tried to get serious.  Actually, I sobered up pretty quickly because I began to figure out what the actually cost was going to be, to replace her phone and I wondered how long it would take us to cover the entire battlefield, as the sun continued to rise along with the heat.  There was no way we were going to find it, and if we did, I was certain it would be in shattered blue pieces.


We had only been walking about 5 minutes, when Keli said "Let's angle across the field, this is where I started running last night".  As we turned to cut diagonally, it wasn't but 2 minutes later that Keli found her phone.  No Joke.  In One Piece.  With 13 text messages and one missed call.


Obviously the tractor had passed over the phone, because there is a long scratch on the screen plus some scarring on the case.  But it still is operational.  Even the touch screen.


To wrap up our adventure, my brilliant (blonde) girl made the following statement to me.  The one missed call last night was from my phone, we had called it in hopes that it had fallen somewhere in the car.  As we got into our car to return home with the battlescarred phone she said:


"Mom, just think.  When you tried to call my phone last night, and all the bugs were settled around it in the grass, can you imagine their reaction?  If they've seen the movie Transformers, they must have been terrified when my phone rang."


My response:  "Keli, bugs don't go to movies."

I Know Better than to Leave the House........

I found myself in what was, to me, a most hysterical and peculiar situation today.

Like a good mom, I took my kids to see Shrek.  Against my better judgement.  We had been shopping.  At the Mall.  A Long Time.  I hate the mall and I hate to shop.  OH how I HATE to SHOP.  But post shopping, we ate lunch.  Yum.  I love to eat.  OH how I LOVE TO EAT.

So I did not want to go to the movies.  Besides, I had read the reviews and they were disappointing--"Not Funny." I didn't want to spend the money or the two hours on something not funny.

But the manipulative munchkins talked me into seeing Shrek Forever After.  Hmm, one should not watch a Shrek movie and come away being SAD---they turned it into a Chick Flick, hello???  Who's idea was THAT?  Fire the producer.  Fire the writers.  Fire the Key Grips.

Anyway, I was finding my heartrate/breathing a small bit of a challenge.  I had been fighting a little bit of irrational panic and adrenaline off and on.  And if any of you were at Old Navy today for their $1.00 Flip Flop sale, THEN YOU WERE PANICKING AS WELL, so don't hate.  Go ahead, tell me you weren't.  Good grief.  There were 983 people in there buying black flip-flops for $1.00 (limit of 5 per customer, black was all they had left).  I was tempted to bribe Bethany to yell "FIRE!!" just so that I could breathe again.

But today, though this goes against some of my strongest pet peeves, I am thinking that maybe an accumulation of panic amongst other things and thoughts, may have led to the situation I found myself in later that day, in the restroom of the Regal Theatre.

I was ill.  Very, very ill.  Very, very very ill.  In a very, very public bathroom.

Not.  Good.

And worse still, in the midst of being not well, it was so very hard not to laugh at the children's, teens and their mom's reaction as they entered the restroom, had I been in any condition at all to laugh.  Of course, I would become ill right as soon as SHREK (which was attended by two-count 'em, TWO birthday party groups) let out---thus I was in a bathroom full of people, all waiting their turn.  Oops.  Their comments were down-right hysterical, if I could have recorded them, I would have.  My favorite? "Someone needs some serious help."

Has there every been a more truthful statement?

I tried to leave, but had to turn right back around, as I quickly sent a text to my daughter and apologizing that she and her siblings were having to wait for me.  Her response?  Something to the effect of : TAKE YOUR TIME.  Thanks, my daughter dear, I'll do that.  I appreciate your permission.

About 30 minutes later, I was able to leave.  Yep-30 minutes.  Shoot, by then I could have snuck back in and could have chosen another movie to watch!  But alas, the teen driver was eagerly waiting out in our van, torturing her brothers and sister, and I think they were taking bets to see how long it would take me to reappear.  Should have gone to see Ironman 2, that would have taught them.

Just to finish off the story with a nice ending, the teen driver insisted that she must stop at Walmart.  Ugh.  But, being the good mother that I was trying hard to be, I acquiesced.  As we were leaving Walmart, I set off the door alarm.  I don't know why.  The little old smiley face sticker man asked me for my receipt. (Why don't they give out those stickers any more?  That was the only good part about going to Walmart.  I suppose they are trying to save trees and "Go Green".  Bummer.)  He asked me if I'd bought a TV. A TV??  Really?   Of course I politely answered "No Sir".  I could see my kids standing outside WalMart, (how did they get past the Walmart police and I did not?) making fun of me while he checked my receipt for contraband.  All he found was shampoo, my two new pairs of Sesame Street and AC/DC pajamas (no, Sesame Street and AC/DC does NOT create an antithesis), Pringle's and shorts for Tim.  Oh, and I think I bought some toothpaste.  I'm thinking it was the AC/DC pajamas that were contraband.  Or the toothpaste.

A concert by Keli, Featuring the Ukulele, the French Horn, and a Tick